Kyrie Eleison
by Carnivorous Mushroom
Summary: There was no escaping the clutches of death. He knew he didn't deserve heaven. He was; after all, the epitome of blasphemy. Kyrie Eleison, May God have mercy on us... - Mello-centric -


**Warning: **Contains some heavy religious references to Catholicism. Also, this contains a major spoiler. Thou hast been warned**!**

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Death Note in any way, shape, or form.

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How had he ended up in a situation like _this_?

His hands trembled slightly on the wheel of the cargo truck as he drove away. His eyes contained no shine, no life. They were the eyes of a man who had lost all hope.

"Only _I _can do this." He muttered to himself. His attention then flew to the small television monitor, and a bloodied body of a young man flashed upon the screen. The body of a _dead_ man.

Azure eyes fluttered away from the screen; devastation clear in those eyes of his.

"Matt… I didn't think you'd be killed… I'm so sorry." His voice was tinged with a deep sorrow. He hoped that his late friend _**may **_forgive him wherever he was now.

Heaven or Hell? He could only wonder, though he thought Matt deserved heaven. He had dragged Matt into this; into sin. So shouldn't he, the sinner, deserve hell?

Yes, and he was almost sure that's where he was headed.

"Damn. _**God**_, what have I done?" He thought. His voice seemed childish to him, like one of a lost boy. He thought he had grown out of being a child a long time ago, but had he reverted back to being a boy again? A _little_ boy…?

He dropped one hand from the steering wheel, and directed it to where his crucifix lay. He clenched the symbol of Christ absently, until he started to feel slight pain at the feeling of the edges of the cross against his palm. It still hurt, even if the skin of his hand was protected by a glove. It's strange how sometimes, no matter how much protection you _**have**_, things can still hurt you.

"_Oh, you're so smart, my beautiful boy. Mama couldn't be more proud of you._" A voice cut through the engulfing silence. He turned abruptly to his side, but there was nothing there. His eyes widened.

His mama had said that! He remembered her soft voice and her encouraging words; there's no doubt about it: that was his mama's voice! But mama was long gone; was he going mad?

The scene in which she had said those exact words replayed in his mind. People say that when one is near death, their life flashes before their eyes. He wondered if he was close to it, for his memories of his childhood flooded his mind. They were like flashbacks in movies; the memories. Clear and picture perfect.

"_Mommy, I love you."_

He clutched his crucifix once again, as if that would help him get through the madness. '_God, I don't want to die… But I've already made my choice… I've passed the point of no return. This is the only way to stop Kira's reign.' _He thought.

He slowed down the truck, his destination was very close. He stopped the cargo truck just before entering an ancient-looking church. "This is it." He spoke solemnly.

"_Mello, you're a very intelligent boy, and because of that, we've decided that you are second in line to be L's successor."_

"_M-me? L's successor!? No way! I gotta be dreaming! Well, but… I'm second? Then, who's first?"_

"_Near, of course."_

Oh, he remembered that day very well. That day marked the beginning of his life-long obsession, the beginning of his gradual transformation into a monster; because Mello knew he had done bad things, and that he had become a monster.

He once again grasped the crucifix, except this time, he began praying.

"I'm going to die, and I know it!" Desperation was evident in his tone. The kind of desperation a man feels when he knows his end is near.

"_Our Father, who art in heaven,_

_hallowed be thy name;_

_thy kingdom come;_

_thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven._

_Give us this day our daily bread;_

_and forgive us our trespasses_

_as we forgive those who trespass against us;_

_and lead us not into temptation,_

_but deliver us from evil._

_Amen."_

Mello prayed, holding the crucifix at eye level now. "I know that I've done many terrible things... And I know that if there is an afterlife, I'm going to hell. I'm not asking you for _**mercy**_ or anything because I know I don't deserve it, but… Please, forgive me!" His speech was rushed and he hated how he sounded like a child.

"_My boy, always say your prayers before going to bed. Remember to thank the Lord for everything._" The voice of his dead mother filled his mind.

"_Yes, mama. I always pray before going to bed. I never forget_."

His eyes were dilated, and he was sweating. He was _**on**_ the brink of madness. The thought of dieing had gotten to him, and he was losing his mind.

"_You're such a good boy, Mihael. You're such a gorgeous little boy._" His mother was no longer just inside his head, he realized. She was right next to him. She smiled, and her tender hand reached out to touch a tendril of blonde hair. Her hand moved on to caress his cheek, but… He couldn't feel it! _"You're going to join mommy and daddy very soon, Mihael."_

"Mama…" He said as he tried to reach out for her, but she was gone. His breathing came in pants now. He was losing his sanity.

"_Hail Mary,__  
Full of Grace,  
The Lord is with thee.  
Blessed art thou among women,  
and blessed is the fruit  
of thy womb, Jesus.  
Holy Mary,  
Mother of God,  
pray for us sinners now,  
and at the hour of death. _

_Amen."_

He prayed his Hail Mary's. He never forgot to pray to the sacred Virgin, either. When he was little he used to think his mama was a form of the Holy Mother. Virgin Mary was always by his side and always protecting him, just like mama. His mama was his Mary, and he loved her so very much. But mama went away one day and never came back. Holy Mary was sleeping, and she was never going to wake up.

"_Our Father, who art in heaven,_

_hallowed be thy name;_

_thy kingdom come;_

_thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven..."_

He began again, his eyes dimmer now,

"_Give us this day our daily bread;_

_and forgive us our trespasses_

_as we forgive those who trespass against us;_

_and lead us not into temptation,_

_but deliver us from ev-"_

He couldn't finish, a sharp pain slammed into his heart, and for a minute he couldn't breathe. It was coming; his inevitable death. "God, I-I r-really… am sorry…" He managed to whisper between gasps. "I… am ready… to accept… whatever is… waiting for… me…"

Another sharp pain raked through his body, and he clasped the crucifix so hard that not even the mighty leather of his glove could stop the edge of the cross from digging into his skin. Blood oozed from the new wound, but this new wound was nothing compared to the pressure on his chest. And it certainly was nothing like the pain of the inner wound that tormented him since a long time ago. That wound hurt the most, of course. That pain had always been in his heart since the day his mother, his Mary, died.

As his eyes started to lose more and more of their remaining shine, something, or rather someone appeared to him. It was her; the Holy Virgin! His eyes were wider than ever.

She wore a shawl that covered her black, raven hair, just like in the paintings. Her brilliant eyes were kind, just like he had always imagined them to be.

"Ave…María…" He whispered between his gasps. He always thought she was beautiful when he saw the paintings in the churches, but she was so much _more _beautiful in person, well in spirit. In those kind eyes of hers; however, he saw pity.

Pity, he hated to see that look in people's faces. He hated when people out in the crowd stared at his horrible scar with pity. He didn't want anybody's sympathy; he was just fine without it. Even his best friend, Matt, sometimes gave him that despicable look. Mihael Keehl was certainly _not_ a pitiful person. Just this once; however, he let somebody gaze upon him with that look he had so often hated to see.

"I... I'm not… asking for you… to take _**us **_both to heaven… I just want Matt… to be in a better… place… And not where I'm going…" Mello gasped; his once brilliant blues were halfway shut now.

He watched her, the Mother of God, as he tried to keep his eyes from closing. He managed to open up his eyes all the way again; he wanted to keep his gaze on her for as much time possible.

She stood there, still looking at him with compassion. To the dieing man's surprise, Virgin Mary moved. She stretched out an arm, and offered a pale, white hand to him. He stared at the beautiful hand dumbly, not sure what to do.

He strained his eyesight towards her own stunning orbs, and then he understood…

"_Mihael Keehl… You poor child…"_

He mustered the last of his remaining strength to place his large, leather-clad hand in her small, white one. In that moment, the horrible pain stopped, and he knew that it was almost over… It was only a matter of time now. Somehow, though, he wasn't so afraid anymore. He felt strangely at peace.

Suddenly, he couldn't hold the weight of his body anymore, and his head impacted with the steering wheel. His whole body went limp, and the hand that once held onto the Sacred Virgin's so tightly fell to his side. The rosary he always wore around his neck dangled limply off the steering wheel, like a pendulum.

The last of Mihael Keehl's memories floated in his mind, and soon, they began to fade into nothingness. Mihael was no longer afraid anymore; he was happy that he could die like this… He was content that he had been able to die with Ave María looking over him. There was nothing more he could ask for… Even his mama had come to see him in his final moments.

His only regret was not being able to save Matt from the clutches of death…

He wondered briefly if they had forgiven his rotten soul. He pondered over if they had forgiven him; the _sinner_.

"_Hail Mary,  
Full of Grace…,"_

Were his last words as he gave one last breath as a living man…

And just like that, his life was over…

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**Author's Note:** Wow, that was depressing. This was originally supposed to be a drabble, but it ended up being way too long. I have a horrible habit of writing too much when I get into something. This story was inspired by the fact that I've always thought that Mello was in a way religious. The Spanish perfectionist in me came out when I wrote "María" with an accent over the "i". I'm not sure if it needs one, but it bugged me when it didn't have one! I know it's actually Latin, but... Gah! Well, I hope you guys like it! Reviews would be nice!


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